Spoiled
by puritymatters
Summary: As the Doctor lay dying, he reflects on his life and what his eternity may hold.
1. Chapter 1

**Spoiled**

The hard grating of the TARDIS' deck ground uncomfortably into his aching back. His hearts beat an erratic cadence against his chest as his breath wheezed unsteadily through his lips. As he lay there with thousands of years of memories flitting through his mind, he knew there would be no more regenerations. Though for any other species death would be the victor. For him, however, he welcomed it with open arms. No more running. No more cheating time. No more looking over his shoulder. No more new faces.

It came as a relief, almost. He could finally rest. He had more adventures notched on his sleeves than anyone in the existence of time and space. Though younger incarnations of himself had grieved over the many processes at times, they each brought forth a new life, new experiences, and new friends with each regeneration. He had lived more lives than should ever be awarded to anyone, alien or human. And all of those friends were long gone.

His breathing became more labored with each breath. He could almost feel his old girl dying alongside him. They'd had a grand life together, they had. A boy and his box. Companions till the end, they were.

The console lights dimmed until even just a slight greenish blue haze floated above him. He could barely keep his eyes open as it was, but he knew his TARDIS was making his final moments as comfortable as possible. It was a pact they'd made to each other at some point over the years. Her low hum lulled him and it was as though he could feel her brushing back his singed hair; the burnt skin on his face no longer hurt to the touch, though he could still smell the acrid scent of his seared flesh. Subconsciously he knew he was experiencing some degree of shock, considering the final battle he'd just endured. Someone or something in the universe had finally received their just desserts.

Despite the ebbing pain of his outer body, it became increasingly difficult to breath. And he knew, that in just a moment he would draw his final breath. But before the darkness claimed him, he had to let her know how he felt.

"Thank you, dear girl," he rasped. He hardly recognized his voice as it warbled out of his burning lungs. "Thank you for always taking me where I needed to go. Thank you for never giving up on me..."

He heard his ship sigh and groan as though in mourning, as the darkness finally claimed him.

OOoooooooooooOOooooooooOO

A blinding light flashed before his eyes nearly burning his retinas. Rushing filled his ears until he thought they might explode. The burning in his lungs escalated as though they were being ripped from his chest. And his hearts beat faster than he ever before experienced. His back slammed hard into something that he could neither see nor distinguish, whooshing the remaining air from his lungs.

And then the silence came.

Moments passed before he even dared access his multi-sensory faculties.

A soft breeze wafted over his face, filling his senses with a comforting warmth, and a sweet, fresh scent that he couldn't quite place.

"So this is it," he thought. He never could quite imagine what his eternity might be like, even when faced with his own tomb that brief moment in time on Trenzalore. Nothing had quite prepared him for this moment.

Something rustled above his head. He still could not force his eyes open, despite the growing urge to do so. He lay upon his back, the soft warmth cascading over his brow. Once again he caught a whiff of something all too familiar. He searched his memories, attempting to uncover the long buried memory, as a shadow passed over his face.

"Hello Sweetie."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

"Hello Sweetie."

That voice. He could never forget that voice, no matter how many years it had been since he had relished in it.

One of his eyes popped open while the other remained close, as though the action would protect part of him from what he might see.

Above him hovered the beautiful smiling face of his wife. Big, golden curls bounced with the slight movement of her head.

He knew he must be delusional. How else could this moment be explained? He was dead. That's it. There should be only nothingness welcoming him upon his wakening.

He dared to even speak. That his voice should cause the lovely vision before him to dissipate.

"River?"

"Yes, Sweetie." She cupped his cheek in her hand, her warmth radiating through his body.

His other eye slowly opened so he could fully take in the figure still hovering above him; a golden light enveloped her presence making her full head of curls appear as though on fire.

He reached up and placed his own hand alongside her face as she leaned into him.

He jerked his hand back, flexing it as he did so. He wiggled his fingers and waved them in front of his face. That hand. He knew that hand. This was not the hand he had died with, that he was certain. This hand was gangly, though a certain amount of strength emanated from it.

He sat up quickly, nearly colliding with his wife as he did so. She moved back into a crouching position, allowing his his space.

His other hand joined the inspection he was performing. Two hands that were so very familiar. He hurriedly clasped them together before they made their way to his face, slapping himself in the process. The slight sting of the impact jarred him, though not from the previously burnt flesh he knew should be present. He ran his hands up through his hair. Longish hair. He knew without a doubt that he did not have hair of this length when he did. He had kept it neat and close-cut. But this, this hair he remembered from a few hundred years before.

Finally he looked down at himself, taking in his appearance. The tweed sleeves of the jacket he was wearing grazed the legs of his dark, jean-clad legs. Long long legs. Ending with a pair of rather large and clunky boots that met the bottom of the jeans. He hands flew to his neck and there he found comfort in the little accessory that his former self had enjoyed wearing at one time - a bow tie.

His panic-filled eyes flew to River once again. She was still there crouching before him with amusement lighting her features.

"River, what is going on? I don't understand. I'm dead. Dead, River. Dead." He croaked, the voice of his long-gone self flew from his lips.

"While I knew this would likely be a shock for you. I knew the day would come. So I just waited patiently where you put me." Her cryptic answer washed over him.

He reached out and grasped her shoulders, forcing her to look into his eyes.

"Tell me what is going on. Right now." He tamped down a sudden anger he felt at the fear that had entered his voice.

She smiled that singular smile that could get his blood to boiling. The smile that turned him inside out with frustration and excitement simultaneously.

"Remember, you put me here, Sweetie. I thought it only fitting to bring you along in the end."

She had the way about her, always beating around the bush, when all he wanted was a straight answer. It irritated him. The woman would be the death of him. And yet...

"What the bloody hell is that supposed to mean, River. Just come out with it already."

She sighed resignedly, a small smile still gracing her lips, her gaze dropping from his for a moment. "I uploaded your consciousness into the Library's computer."

His mouth dropped open in shock as his hands flew above his head. "What?! How? When? Why?"

River chuckled as she sidled up beside him and once more looked into his eyes. "I admit, I gave in to a moment of selfishness. I couldn't live without you."

He huffed as he ran his hands through his once again floppy hair.

"Technically, it was your TARDIS that uploaded your consciousness, though I was the instigator." She continued.

He wracked his mind, trying to figure out how his wife - who was just a virtual representation of herself by his own creation, true - managed to gain access to his consciousness without him knowing it. And that his own TARDIS had at some point deceived him in the process.

"I know what you are thinking. It was a while back. I suppose a long while now. Shortly after Trenzalore, when I was still linked with Clara."

"Clara?" His Impossible Girl. It had been a long while since he had thought of her. She was long gone, as well. They all were.

"Yes, Clara. She helped me. I instructed her how to transfer your consciousness at the time into one of the TARDIS' secured data servers. Upon your death, your true death, the TARDIS would upload your consciousness, your memories to that point in time, and everything about you, into the Library's database. Where you left me."

A memory of guilt flashed through him. That is exactly what he had done to River. To save her from death. And she had turned right around and done the very same thing to him. If he wasn't so frustrated at the discovery he would have been beaming with pride.

"That was very selfish of you, River." He admonished.

Her lips pulled up in a smirk as she grabbed his face in her hands. "What did you expect me to do, Sweetie? You caused me to fall so irrevocably in love with you. I could not go through eternity without you. You of all people should know that."

He mused over her answer, as he took in all of the emotion fully written on her face. He had done this to her. He had placed her, closed off, in a database on the farthest reaches of the universe. If he had never thought she would expect something in return from him, he had been fooling himself.

He approached the one question that had been dogging him since he had "arrived". "How is it that this version of myself is the one that is here then? Why not my final incarnation?"

He was met with her lips meeting his in a glorious reunion. He had forgotten how much he enjoyed that part.

She pulled away slowly, mere inches from his face. "Because this is the you that I fell in love with."

Of course. _That made sense_, he thought. It was the only thing that really did make absolute sense at this point.

After a few moments of careful consideration of what to say next, still gazing into the eyes of his wife, he tapped her on the nose with his finger.

"Well, River Song. It appears that I am home, then."

Home. He had never really had a home. Sure, his TARDIS had been home from more than a thousand years. And one could have counted Gallifrey, though, being so far in his past, it never really welcomed him as much as the woman before him. Why had he never realized that home was wherever she was?

A bright smile lit her features, as she wrapped her arms around him. Their lips met once more in a frenzy of emotion. His, of finally coming to terms with the fact that he was truly dead, though not dead. And hers, that her husband had finally acknowledged what she had always dreamt of him saying.

They eventually broke apart, breathing heavily and laboriously, though both smiling.

"I have another surprise for you, Sweetie."

"What more could you surprise me with, River?" He laughed.

"There comes a time for all spoilers to be revealed, Sweetie." She moved aside so he could see beyond her.

The large expansive manor filled the landscape behind her. It was impressive by far. He had chosen well. As his eyes scanned the scenery, they swept over people lounging in front of the manor, on benches, under trees, by a fountain. Then they landed on a couple leaning against a stone wall, looking directly at him. He shook his head in denial. It couldn't be. There was no possibly way.


End file.
